


When Tomorrow Comes

by Larkawolfgirl



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Canonical Character Death, Character Death Fix, Cock Rings, Creampie, Emotional Porn, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Grief/Mourning, Hugs, M/M, Mostly Canon Compliant, Multi, Orgasm Delay, Polyamory, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-28 10:47:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14447682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larkawolfgirl/pseuds/Larkawolfgirl
Summary: When tomorrow comes, their time will be up. They will march to war, and Noctis alone will face Ardyn and pay the price for humanity. He decides if he's going out, he's taking a part of his lovers with him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm miss slowpoke. This was supposed to be for kink week, but you can see how late it is. I even finished writing this a few days ago but never got around to rereading/editing it to decide if I wanted to add more to the ending or not.

Being back in Hammerhead is as nostalgic as it is surreal. The town is busier than Noctis remembers it, tens of who he assumes to be hunters loitering around the garage and diner. Talcott nods to a couple hunters on his way toward the crowded diner, but Noctis hangs back, his chest constricting. He wants to see his friends again—Six does he want to see them again—but the weight of tomorrow is already crushing him. How can he possibly tell them?

Talcott disappears into Takka's Pit Stop and returns followed by three figures before Noctis comes up with an answer, and as soon as they are close enough for him to make out the faces of his friends his mind grinds to a halt. Ten years, Talcott said, but their appearances are still a surprise. They are just as attractive, but there is a new sophistication to their faces, aged and lined from the stress of living in this world of darkness. New scars cover faces and hands, and a skimpy attempt at a bread has grown on Prompto’s chin. 

Noctis’ mouth opens, but Gladiolus speaks before he can form any words. “Noct?” His deep baritone sounds so brokenly relieved.

Noctis tries to smile. “Hey,” he says as casually as he can through the lump in his throat.

Ignis stands still, much like a deer caught in headlights, while Gladio and Prompto hurry to Noctis.

Prompto’s hands trace his face and arms. “You’re real, right?”

As far as he knows. “As real as I’ll ever be.” He gives a forced chuckle.

“Shit.” Gladio’s face goes hard for a second. Then his brow twitches with repressed emotion and he tugs Noctis against him in an embrace. “I missed you so damn much.”

If it were ten years earlier, Noctis would have made a joke about how he could miss a spoiled brat like him. Now, he lacks the strength to, simply returning the embrace and pressing a soft kiss to his chest.

Prompto’s touching his shoulder when Ignis finally comes up beside them. “Highness?” he asks wearily as if afraid he is nothing more than a figment of his imagination.

Gladio’s arms fall away so Noctis can go to him, and he does. “Yeah, it’s me, Specs.” He cups his advisor’s cheek and rubs his thumb across the scar of his eye.

Ignis leans his face forward so their foreheads meet and their breaths mingle. “After all this time.” He makes an ugly sound in his throat, and Noctis is quick to wrap his arms around him.

“Shh, I’m here,” he says, hating the finality of it. He doesn’t want to leave them, not again, not after reappearing in their lives like this. It isn’t fucking fair to any of them.

Soon, Gladio’s hand finds Ignis’ head and Prompto latches himself onto Noctis and Ignis’ sides. They stand there for some time in silence, just catching up to the feel of each other, to being together again. Finally, Ignis straightens, sighs, and says, “We are off to face the Chancellor, I presume.”

“Yeah. We should probably head out,” Noctis says even though it’s the last thing he wants to do right now. Ever, if he is honest. Why does he have to be the one to save the world? He’s been down this road a million times inside the crystal and nothing good came from going there. He squares his shoulders, trying to look more regal than he feels.

Gladio nods in understanding, a strong hand falling to his shoulder and squeezing. He looks proud of him, _truly_ proud. Prouder than he remembers him ever being of him. “Kay. You good, Iggy?”

“I have some items we might find useful for the excursion. I can be ready with them in a few minutes.”

“I’ll help,” Prompto announces in a tone nearly as bright as Noctis remembers.

As the blondes hurry off back inside the diner, Noctis follows Gladio over to the caravan. Instead of going inside, Gladio only reaches for a discarded duffle bag by one of the lawn chairs. The shield answers before Noctis can ask. “We got closed in. Hammerhead’s one of the few outposts we got left. Makes for a tight squeeze. Iggy lucked out and got permanent dibs on a section of the diner, and Prompto shares it with him when he’s here. Since I travel so much, I get whatever’s available, which right now was a lawn chair.” It makes sense.

They circle back to the front of the diner for the short wait for Ignis and Prompto’s return. “Then, shall we be off?” the former asks.

The drive to Insomnia is quiet as Noctis and Prompto scan the open road for ambushing daemons from the bed of Gladio’s truck. Luckily, none appear until Gladio pulls up near the haven. It’s a single Red Giant, and Noctis ends up watching more than fighting as caught up as he is with their increased battle skill and experience. Once it’s defeated, they enter the safety of the haven and settle into their old routine: Gladio setting up the tent, Ignis preparing dinner, Prompto starting the campfire, and Noctis setting up their folding chairs and bedding once the tent is standing.

It isn’t until they are seated around a blazing fire eating bowls of king’s stew that the inevitable is brought up. “So, what was it like being inside the crystal?” Prompto asks.

“Bahamut made me face my destiny.”

Ignis looks too empathetic for Noctis’ liking.

“You’re finally ready to be king, huh?” Gladio asks with some actual amusement.

If only that was an option. “We’ve come too far for me to turn around.”

“Noct,” Ignis begins.

Noctis cuts him off with a heavy sigh. “Alright, I’ll spill.” He doesn’t know how Ignis knows, but that will make this easier. “Tomorrow, when _I_ fight Ardyn,” he sets commanding eyes on Gladio who looks ready to protest, “I won’t be returning.”

Gladio’s jaw clenches in understanding, but Prompto leans forward in his seat. “What do you mean?”

“What he means,” Ignis says, setting his empty bowl onto the stone floor, “is that he must give up his life in order to bring back the dawn.”

Gladio’s grip tightens on his bowl while Prompto almost drops his. “You…But that’s…”

“Unfair?” Noctis says with a bitter laugh. “Tell me about it.” He slumps back into his chair, face openly sullen.

Ignis reaches over to take his hand in his. “Highness—Majesty,” he catches himself, “you do have a choice.”

Love wells up inside Noctis and he squeezes his hand tight. “No, I don’t. I always bitched about not having agency over my life, well, Bahamut showed me I was right. There’s no other option. I _have_ to do this. As shitty as it is.”

“Damn right it’s shitty.” Gladio’s sets his bowl down and crosses his arms.

Worrying at his bottom lip, Prompto glances between the three of them. “You can’t. Tell him he can’t, Gladio.” Gladio’s hand tightens on his arm but he says nothing, so Prompto turns to Ignis. “Iggy, please.”

Even though he cannot see it, Ignis turns away from his imploring gaze. “As Noct said, there is no other way.”

Prompto’s shaking, his bowl held precariously. Gladio rises and pulls the blonde against his torso, closing his own eyes. Noctis’ throat goes dry. He wants to say something to make it better but there’s nothing he can. Giving Ignis’ hand one final squeeze, he goes to Prompto. As soon as he’s near, Prompto flings himself at him knocking his folding chair over and dropping his bowl in his haste. Fortunately, neither break, but the bowl makes a series of loud clattering sounds as it tumbles across the haven. Noctis stumbles a bit but maintains his balance, holds Prompto’s head against him, and places a light kiss to the crown of his head. It becomes apparent quickly enough that the blonde is crying as his shirt grows wet. Noctis looks to Gladio silently asking him what he should do. Gladio just shakes his head and strokes Prompto’s back.

Eventually, Prompto calms down. “Sorry,” he murmurs quietly, wiping at his tear-stained face.

“No, I’m sorry,” Noctis says, rubbing at his arm.

“Noct,” Ignis cuts in with a cold bite, “there is nothing for _you_ to apologize for.”

He isn’t sure if the others comprehend his meaning, but Noctis understands full-well it is Bahamut he blames. An image of Ignis confronting the Draconian with glinting daggers appears in his mind’s eye. As cool as it looks, he thanks Ignis’ endless sensibility that it will never happen. One of them dead is more than enough. “Right,” he says. “I still feel shitty, though.”

Before he knows it, Prompto’s kissing him. “Stop. Don’t.”

Noctis isn’t sure if he is telling him to stop blaming himself or still trying to dissuade him from willingly walking to his death. Perhaps both. “I love you,” he says rather than a promise he can’t keep. “I love all of you. So much. Please know that.” He usually isn’t so bold with his affections, but death is a powerful ultimatum.

Ignis rises and hooks his arm around Noct’s shoulder from behind. “We know and we still feel the same for you. I’ve loved you since we were children and will continue to do so until my dying breath.”

Ignis has always been the most sentimental among them, but the words still knock Noct back with their intensity. The king twists so he’s partially facing both Ignis and Prompto and leans his head against the advisor’s shoulder.

The others let him savor the moment, before Gladio’s voice rings out. “It took time for me to see you as more than a snot-nosed little brother, but when I fell, you better believe I fell harder than a rock hurled by Titan. My vows were from my gods damn heart, Noct. If I could die for you tomorrow instead, I would a million times over.”

Shit, Noct’s the one crying now.

“Duude,” Prompto whines, “how can I compare to those confessions?”

Noct gives a small chuckle and ruffles his styled hair. “Haven’t I told you, it isn’t a competition?”

“I haven’t known or liked you as long, but you were my first friend and first crush. You didn’t care who I was or where I came from. You brought color to my life.” He swallows hard, looking at Ignis then over his shoulder at Gladio. “I love you guys too, but Noct—” He breaks off with another sniffle.

“It’s okay, Prom. We get it,” Gladio says encircling an arm around his waist.

They must be a sight, four ragged adults tear-faced and embracing each other around a campfire, but Noctis doesn’t give a damn, lets himself sink into the soothing comfort.

“Alright!” he eventually exclaims with too much enthusiasm. “I don’t want to waste our final night wallowing, okay? You’ve had 10 years for that and you’ll have years after, so I’d rather make tonight…” he can’t say _happy_ , “memorable.”

“What do you have in mind?” Gladio’s tone implies he has a good guess.

“Specs, do you have a cock ring and butt plug with you?”

“I had presumed the course of the evening would be mild, if not uneventful.”

“No sweat, Igs,” Prompto says. “I threw stuff in the bag, just in case.”

Ignis shakes his head fondly. “Of course, you did.”

“But, uh, who are we using them on?” Prompto asks.

Noctis knows it’s reckless. They should rest as much as possible and he needs to be in his best form to ensure he survives his clash with Ardyn. But they’ve earned this and it will allow him to face his destiny with one less regret. “I want you all to fill me up and leave me plugged for tomorrow.” He can’t meet their eyes as he continues. “I want to take a part of you with me when I go.”

His confession is met with a long silence. Then, Prompto whistles, Gladio curses, and Ignis clears his throat. He takes that as agreement, and moves out of their holds and toward the tent. “So,” he calls over his shoulder, “you guys coming?”

Prompto—as eager as ever, apparently—is the first to follow him, then Gladio, and then Ignis (who looks to be in no hurry as he pauses to zip up the tent flap and light their lantern). By the time they are all inside and Prompto has retrieved the requested toys from Ignis’ bag, Noctis has already removed his clothing and sat down on his knees in the center of the tent. Gladio and Prompto’s eyes roam over him, no doubt taking in ten years’ worth of changes, and Noctis wants nothing more than to do the same to them.

“You want it now, or?”

Prompto waves the cock ring in the air, but Noctis barely notices as he drowns in Gladio’s hungry expression. “That can wait. Come here,” he orders Gladio who obeys immediately.

As soon as he’s within reach, Noctis runs hands over the planes of his clothed thighs. They’re stronger now and he can’t wait to feel the warm flesh underneath. He tilts his head up to lock eyes with that intense amber as he moves his hand up and over his crotch. Gladio sucks in a breath and Noctis undoes his zipper, taking his time pulling his pants and boxers down, eyes locked the entire time, and the tent is entirely silent as he does so, all eyes on him, all control in his hands as he finally rubs up those muscled thighs and palms at Gladio’s cock which stirs immediately. Noctis gives him two full pumps before bringing the head into his mouth. He runs his tongue over the underside of the head before taking more of the shaft into his mouth.

Gladio’s hand finds his hair, not pulling, not petting, just there. It’s nice, but Noctis wants more—wants everything without enough time. The hand on the base of his cock squeezes as the other guides Gladio’s to tug. Gladio gives a low heady moan, his eyes darkening with lust. It only takes him a second to tug on his own and begin moving his hips. Noctis tips his head further down to give him easier access and sucks around him as he moves. Tears prickle at his eyes when his cock hits the back of his throat, but Noctis holds him there as long as he can, until his gag reflex kicks in and he pulls off entirely.

Panting in breaths of air, he looks to Prompto and Ignis who have huddled close together. “Come here.”

They come up on Gladio’s left.

“Undress.” Noctis presses his lips to Gladio’s dick. “You too.” He leans back to wait, watching them acutely. They look so different yet so much the same. He wonders briefly how he looks. He knows his hair has grown shaggy but he hasn’t taken the time to look in a mirror. While their bodies are fitter from fighting, his own is probably softer now. From the way Gladio and Prompto are looking at him, he must still look attractive at least.

Once they are all fully naked, he leans in toward Ignis, ghosting his fingertips along his shaft first as a gentle announcement of his intentions. Even so, Ignis gasps at the contact before relaxing into it. As soon as he does, Noctis kisses along his shaft then runs his tongue up from the base to the tip. He swirls his tongue around the head before wrapping his lips around it. Ignis’ fingers curl into his hair immediately with a firm grip but he doesn’t move, so Noctis bobs his head, speeding his movements and moaning to empathize his own pleasure.

A minute into this, Prompto nudges the advisor in the arm. “Come on, Igs, he wants you to face-fuck him.”

“Hells,” he groans.

He gives two slow rocks of his hips before finally giving Noctis what he wants. Noctis stops moving his head, hallowing his cheeks and swirling his tongue at the tip each time he pulls back. Ignis’ other hand comes up to his mouth.

“Noct, it’s…been too long,” he says shakily.

Understanding, Noctis lifts his face off of him. He takes Ignis’ wrist in hand and traces his thumb along it. Ignis smiles down at him, his fingers carding through his hair.

“Uh.” Noctis glances over to see Prompto fidgeting. “Not to interrupt or anything, but…”

Noctis can’t help but chuckle. “I haven’t forgotten about you.”

“Phew,” Prompto sighs dramatically. “I was a little worried.”

Noctis shakes his head and nuzzles his nose against the blonde’s thigh. “How could I forget someone as loud as you?”

“Rude!” He crosses his arms in mock offense. “I’m just excitable.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” Noctis pokes at his dick watching as it jumps in interest.

“You gonna do something about it?”

Noctis hums in thought as he traces a finger over his inner thigh and perineum. Prompto makes a whiney noise and he takes pity on him. He pokes his tongue out and licks at his slit before descending on him fully. Unlike the other two, Prompto is quick to fuck his throat. His pace is faster and harder than Gladio and Ignis’, but that’s fine—that’s good. It is easier to forget about tomorrow with a cock choking him. He consciously inhales through his nose as he sucks around him and teases at one of his balls.

Prompto gets there in no time and pushes Noctis off of him with a groan. “Now what?”

Noctis settles himself onto his back upon their bedrolls. “Now you fuck me. Gladio’s last so it stays in better.”

Prompto makes as if to pounce on him but stops himself. “I, uh, probably need a minute.”

“Prompt to the o, are we?” Ignis jokes.

Prompto gapes. “That’s horrible.”

Ignoring the comment, Ignis walks slowly toward Noctis, stopping and crouching down when his toe bumps against his foot. “Any other instructions, your Majesty?”

The way he says his title this time makes Noctis’ skin tingle. “Don’t go too fast. I want this to last. But don’t hold back either.”

Ignis nods and calls over his shoulder to Prompto. “Mind handing me the cock ring and lube, dear?”

He places the cock ring on first. “How does that feel? Too tight?”

“No, it’s fine.”

Then he coats his long fingers and lowers them to his puckered hole. One finger probes before popping in. “It has been a long time indeed. This may take a while.”

“No,” Noctis argues on impulse.

Ignis frowns. “Noct, I don’t think—”

“I said not to hold back.”

His lips thin, but Ignis doesn’t argue further. Instead he presses a second finger inside and thrusts them together. A dull ache spreads with the stretch. “You are sure you are prepared?”

“Yes, just get on with it already.”

“Still, a brat,” Gladio says.

Ignis’ lips curl upward at this. He lines himself up and pushes in carefully. It’s slow progress and it tries at Noctis’ patience. His hands grab at Ignis’ shoulders and pull him the rest of the way in.

“Specs, please.”

“Noct.” He looks troubled as he remains still.

Noctis raises his hips eliciting a breathy moan from the other man. Ignis runs a hand over his cheek and neck and kisses him as he begins a slow but delicious pace that hits deep and precisely even. It takes him a few attempts to brush his prostate just right, but once he does, he hits it again and again without fail. “Just tell me if it’s too much,” he says against his lips.

Noctis nods, breathing harshly through his nose. His cock is already pulsing unpleasantly against the cock ring, only growing worse with each strategic thrust, but it’s the ultimate proof that he’s still alive. He wants as much as Ignis can give him and more. If they had the time and resources, he’d have them all wearing rings and doing this all-night long. But they don’t, so he closes his eyes and savors the sensation of Ignis’ wet lips pressed against his and his hard cock grating so wonderfully against his insides. Soon, he has to break their kiss to stutter and gasp at the building heat in his stomach. Hands skim down his advisor’s spine, settling at his tail bone, and legs hook around his legs.

“Iggy.”

“Gods, Noct.” His voice is low and barely louder than a whisper. Sweat is beaded on his forehead and his face is softer than usual, devoid of his usual calculation. All signs he’s close, Noctis remembers.

“Come on, Iggy. Fill me up,” he coaxes, holding the man that much closer to him.

Ignis pushes in roughly to the hilt with a short, sharp gasp. The muscles of his back shudder against Noctis’ hands as wet heat shoots deep into his ass. Noctis’ mouth falls open in a moan at the sensation of being filled. His dick hangs hard and heavy, untouched and aching, but he’s satisfied for the moment.

Ignis’ head drops to his chest and Noctis holds him in a truer embrace. “I’ve missed this,” Ignis whispers after a moment.

“Yeah.”

 He wants to stay like that forever, but his body is still screaming for attention from the others, and beyond his immediate focus he can hear quiet movement. They’ve waited long enough.

He strokes through Ignis’ hair, places a wet kiss to his forehead, and calls out, “Hey, Prom, you good now?”

There’s a surprised noise followed by, “Uh, yeah, good to go.” A moment later he’s at their side grinning. He pokes first at Ignis’ cheek then Noctis’. “You guys are adorable.”

“Why thank you,” Ignis says making no movement to disentangle himself.

Noctis shrugs. “I do try.”

“Sure, you do,” Gladio cuts in.

Noctis cranes his head toward the shield so he can stick his tongue out at him. Then he looks back at Prompto. “Iggy’s gonna hoist me up so it stays inside. Think you can hold me up till you’re in or do you need Iggy to help keep me up?”

“Believe it or not, I’ve gotten pretty strong.” He flexes his right arm which does show a decent amount of muscle, and Noctis makes the appropriate appreciative whistle. “Think I can handle it.”

“Alright,” Ignis says, lifting himself into a sitting position. He moves them so that Noctis’ hips are raised before extracting himself. There is a squelching sound as some cum flies out with his movement. The vast majority, however, remains safely inside. Ignis shifts to face Prompto. “The honor’s all yours.”

Carefully, Prompto sets both hands under his ass cheeks to support him and lines himself up. “You think we need more lube?”

Noctis shakes his head. “It’s good enough. I wanna feel you.”

He reaches out for him and Prompto pushes in with one swift jut of his hips. Noctis’s hands grab at Prompto’s shoulders as he moans at the wonderful feeling of being filled again. What Prompto lacks in precision he makes up for with speed. He thrusts in again and again, and even though he misses his prostate more often than not, the speed of it feels just as overwhelming as Ignis’ assault. They're panting together, faces close but not touching.

“Shit, Noct. You’re still tight.”

Spurred by his words, Noctis clenches around him. Giving a high-pitched moan, Prompto loses all rhythm, alternating between rocking disjointedly and basking in the tightness of his muscles. Each hit to his prostate is a jolt of surprise straight to his dick. It’s maddening and his dick screams for contact. He wants to keep going but he isn’t sure how long he can hold on even untouched.

“Hurry, it’s too much.”

Prompto nods and slams his hips in again and again. He’s moaning without pause now and Noctis pulls him down for an open-mouthed kiss. Not a second later, he cums and they cry out together at the sensation. Noctis feels so full and warm already. He holds him close by the neck and kisses him for a while longer.

By the time they break apart, Gladio’s moved to their side. “You sure you’re good for more?”

“Gods, yes. Just take this thing off first for the love of Shiva.”

Gladio’s calloused hand is blessedly gentle as he slips the ring off his overly sensitized cock and touches over him feather-light. It feels so good Noctis could cry.

He takes a moment to compose himself before continuing, “I’m not gonna last long, but don’t stop. Just keep fucking me, alright? Wreck me, do whatever, I can take it.”

Gladio studies his face, expression unreadable. “Kay, chocobo, move outta the way.”

Together, they lift Noctis’ hips even higher. He’s fuller now and he has to clench to keep it from seeping out regardless of the elevation. Noticing the slight trickle of cum, Gladio immediately plugs the gap with the head of his cock before running large hands over Noctis’ thighs and sinking in. Together, they keep him elevated, giving him both a deeper and fuller thrust than either Ignis nor Prompto as he slowly sinks to the hilt.  

Noctis’ back arches as far as possible into the movement. It’s torturously slow, and Gladio sits there for a moment, but Noctis can already feel himself ready to blow. Tears rest in his eyes, hands running over tight muscles. “Please.”

He needs this. The release, emotional as well as physical.

Gladio kisses along his jaw and down to the junction of his throat before moving. Slow, he moves agonizingly slow and smooth, and Noctis clenches nails into the skin of his back at the sensitivity of too much and too little all at once. Gladio licks and sucks at his throat, one hand holding his torso back by a thigh as the other roams over his arm, ghosts his stomach, and finally, _Gods, finally_ , strokes his cock for real. The hand job is a harsh comparison to his leisure thrusts. He wanted to be wrecked, to stop thinking altogether; instead, he’s overwhelmed by the emotion of it all.

Wetness that is not saliva hits his neck, and his own eyes squeeze tight, tears breaking past his resolve as his orgasm hits like a molten explosion. There’s a sob—he isn’t sure from whom—and Gladio continues stroking him to the point his skin is raw and sensitive. Just when he’s about to complain, Gladio speaks up first.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

Noctis clenches his mouth shut and squirms against the onslaught of touch. His fingers uncurl from the shield’s back, sliding up to his hair and cradling his face against his neck. Gladio kisses at him, just presses of lips now, and Noctis brings one hand down to the one on his cock, holding it still within his own.

Noctis has been too caught up to notice Ignis and Prompto coming in close to them. A hand, calloused and delicate, brushes against Gladio’s forehead—Ignis. Another, freckled, runs over Gladio’s tense shoulder blades. Prompto leans down to press a kiss to those shoulders, and Gladio’s frame shivers. His movements quicken—if only a degree—and Noctis welcomes the change in pace.

He longs to say something comforting and romantic. Something like, “I’ll always be with you,” but that’s just empty sentimental drivel. He’ll be dead and they’ll be grieving. The only silver lining is that they will still have each other.

They won’t have to suffer alone.

“You’ll be okay,” he finally decides on since it is the one truth he knows.

Shuddering breath, a gross sob, and he’s done. Hot seed joins the rest making him feel bloated and strangely content. As much as he wants to stay like this, his core muscles are feeling the position now that the high’s worn off.

“Prom, care to get the plug?”

“Yeah,” he says in a quiet voice. A moment later, he taps the shield’s shoulder to get his attention. “Sorry, but you’re gonna have to move out of the way.”

Gladio grunts, placing one final kiss to Noctis’ throat before rising up. He moves his hands to hold Noct up as Prompto quickly coats the plug in lube and positions it. As full as he is, Noctis has to clench down tightly to keep more than a trickle of cum from escaping before the plug slides in effortlessly, holding already-stretched muscles in place rather than forcing them open.

Once it’s all in, Noctis shifts to test the feel and hold. It’s full enough to stretch and hold the cum inside, but thankfully not so thick it should be too uncomfortable to fight with—a legitimate liability.

The guys are watching him expectantly.

“Thanks.” The word sounds just as hollow as it feels on his tongue. Awkwardness settles, no one knowing what to say.

“Fuck it.”

Gladio, still close in front of Noctis, tugs him to his chest in a tight embrace. Following his lead, Prompto’s arms wraps around them both from the side, and eventually, Ignis envelopment them from behind Noctis—hold fiercest. This is more vulnerable than their embrace by the campfire. This is skin on skin, emotions stripped and overused, the grains of sand running out of their hourglass. Head leaning on Gladio’s collarbone, Noctis grabs for whatever skin of his other lovers he can reach.

They stay like that for an eternity, until limbs are numb and achy and there are no more tears to be shed.

“It would be wise to sleep,” Ignis breaks the silence, voice brittle like the last icicle clinging on through the inevitable cusp of spring.

“Yeah,” Noctis says tightly.

Letting go for as brief a time as possible, they lay down nestled close together. Mindful as ever, Ignis is the one to reach for the blanket of bedroll, and Gladio tucks it in the rest of the way around them.

Sleep is miles away, beyond the sorrowful love surrounding Noctis, beyond the bloated stomach he holds like a trophy. He feels warm and safe even though he knows it’s a lie. When tomorrow comes, their time will be up. They will march to war, and he alone will face Ardyn and pay the price for humanity. It’s a steep burden, but as he listens to the breaths of his lovers, he knows he would never make a different choice. As king, he serves the needs of his kingdom, but it’s for these men that he finds the strength to leave them—the strength to save them.


	2. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This came out longer than I meant to, but yay for curing the angst and humor. I owe the inspiration for this epilogue to Dudewheresmytea and Mediocrewriter.

The morning is quiet and somber. They have a mission to complete. Noctis is predictably sore, but nothing he hasn’t fought through before. While Ignis and Prompto gather their things, he stretches and lets Gladio message the tension out of the muscles he can’t.

The cum feels heavier now that it’s sat in his stomach so long. He can feel it with each movement and jerk of Gladio’s truck upon the road.

He’s glad.

Insomnia’s an image of hell on Eos. Barren, aside from the daemons and MTs literally everywhere, as if pouring out from some otherworldly pit. Cars sit abandoned, trees stand lifeless and leafless. Flames burn bright against the darkness of the endless night.

They fight and fight, to the point it’s monotonous. Slash, slash, dodge, warp strike, slash. Despite his years of “rest” and last night, the crystal has granted him more strength and endurance than he could need. Ignis calls for short breaks on Prompto’s behalf, and even Gladio takes the time to catch his breath, yet Noctis has yet to even break a sweat.

The Inferian awaits them at the Citadel steps. Large and looming, seated on a burning throne of wood. The Astral looks bored as he blasts a wave of fire straight at them, knocking them back. Fire clings to Noctis’ royal robes even as he rolls upon the ground as he was trained to as a small child. Prompto rushes over, slapping hands right into the flames as if they are nothing.

“Hang in there, buddy.”

Gladio shuffles up from behind and goads them to where Ignis is already crouched behind a horizontal stone pillar. A new wave of flames pass just over their heads.

There’s an opening, and Noctis takes it, slashing right along the Astral’s torso. Ifrit’s only reaction is to rise from his throne, as if finally deeming them worth his time. He wields a giant sword laced with flames. But his flames aren’t continuous. There are pauses between, and Noctis takes advantage of those breaks to cut at the god’s legs.

The battle’s long and grueling and Ifrit does not seem to be wavering in the least. _Damn, you Bahamut. Are you just going to let us die here before saving the world?_ Noctis thinks bitterly.

Just then, an enormous sword plummets to the ground. Bahamut flies in on graceful wings. Thousands of silver swords circle his body before crashing down one after another at the Inferian who manages to doge all of them. Bahamut swoops down, clashes swords. Their eyes meet, neither moving.

Noctis warps in, slashing straight across Ifrit’s neck. He falls to his knees.

Bahamut disappears, replaced by Shiva. She flies around him in a graceful dance that sends ice crystals along his skin. Emotion finally reaches Ifrit’s eyes. He reaches toward her as a full-blown snowstorm blows through the air. Ice freezes him entirely in place. Expression soft, Shiva cups his face and lays a kiss to his lips. The ice shatters into nothingness, and Shiva gives Noctis an approving look before flying away.

With their path clear, they head inside the Citadel at last. It’s strange being home again and knowing it will never be the home he remembers. Even if he was allowed to stay here with them, his father would never greet him with that fond smile.

As if sensing his thoughts, Ignis’ hand finds his. “You make your father proud.”

Noctis squeezes his hand, knowing he’s right.

They reach the throne room before he knows it. This is his exit. He turns to face his best friends, his lovers, his only remaining family. The plug is a solid reminder of them, but he still wants more.

“Prompto, do you mind if I take a photo with me?”

“Yeah, um, take whichever one you like.”

Prompto’s taken thousands of photos over their journey, but right now he’s only interested in the ones of the four of them together. There was the one they took that first day in Hammerhead, when they were still happy and carefree. Several risqué shots. A quiet moment around the campfire. One of them messing around at a diner. But the one he chooses is one Prompto snuck of them asleep in a motel. There is a genuineness to the shot that came from being unaware.

“Are you sure?” Prompto asks.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Gladio lays a hand on his shoulder. “You ready to do this?”

Noctis gives a bitter laugh. “As if I have a choice. But yeah, I’m ready.”

Ignis swallows, his voice thick. “You make more than your father proud.”

Noctis refuses to let himself cry again. “Make me proud too. Be happy, be there for each other.” He laughs. “Adopt a kid and name them after me, I don’t know. Just, keep living, okay?”

Ignis and Gladio nod, but Prompto looks at the floor.

“Prom?”

He looks up, face resolute with sadness. “Okay. Yeah…”

Noctis gives the best smile he can, clenches around the butt plug, and turns away.

Fighting Ardyn is easy. So easy it has to be intentional. The Accursed grins all the while, eyes sizing him up as they warp and clash swords. It doesn’t take long for Noctis’ sword to sink into the man’s chest.

Ardyn cackles.

“What’s so funny?”

“I always guessed you four were an item, but to think you would face your destiny like this.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You reek of sex.” The man laughs so hard blood comes up.

Noctis’ brow creases. “Why do you care? You’re about to die?”

Ardyn’s smile becomes almost sincere. “Because it’s my lucky day. I get to die, and you get to piss off Bahamut.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Just wait and see. Now, mind getting on with it?”

Fine. For all he knows, Ardyn is just messing with him. He calls the power of the crystal to him and whispers a short prayer for Ardyn’s soul. The man’s body fades away as if it was never there.

Taking a deep breath, Noctis climbs the stairs to the empty throne. An image of his father sitting there flashes before his eyes. When he sits, the plug in his ass pushes in further. He gives an indecent moan just as the ring of the Lucii begins to glow with power.

The kings are probably already here hidden from sight. They probably know about his keepsake, but he doesn’t feel any embarrassment. He’s played the role given to him. “Kings of Lucis, come to me!” he calls in the voice of a king.

Specters of his ancestors appear in blue crystal energy. The first king of Lucis rises in the air wielding a giant greatsword. He strikes true.

Noctis slumps in the throne. Pain fills his chest, but there’s also a warmth shooting from his stomach to his chest. A smile touches his lips.

The next thing he knows, he’s in empty space. It’s dark, the only light that of the Astrals’ silhouettes. The Six surround him, faces stony with judgement.

Noctis crosses his arms. “What now? I did what you asked.”

Bahamut glares at him. “That may be true, but you disgrace us.”

“How?”

Bahamut shifts, looking…uncomfortable?

Ifrit hollers, breaking his judgmental façade. “Can’t even say it? You really are a prude.”

“Now, dear,” Shiva says as if she is explaining something complicated to a child, “it isn’t nice to make fun of him when he hasn’t had the same _opportunities_ as you.”

Ifrit laughs a second time. “Opportunities? As if he’d take one.”

Bahamut does not look pleased with this conversation. “Human copulation is disgusting. It terrifies me that you would imitate such rituals.”

“As I have explained before, your Holiness,” Shiva says respectfully “sex is an act of love. It is beautiful and natural.”

“It also feels amazing!”

The two of them must have worked things out, because Shiva smacks him in the arm and he only smiles in response.

Noctis can’t help but gape. Are they really arguing because he had sex before coming here? “Wait, so you’re upset because I had sex?”

“Heavens no!” Shiva exclaims.

“That would be bad enough, but here you are with… _stuff_ inside you.”

Noctis laughs. It’s an already-dead death sentence, but he laughs. The all-powerful, frightening Bahamut sounds like a grade schooler embarrassed by the mere mention of sex.

“Oh, my Gods!” No reason to hold back now. “You’re mad because I brought cum to the otherworld?”

Bahamut makes a repulsed face. “Yes, that.”

“And you can’t even say it? This is too much.” Noctis clutches his stomach, laughing so hard he can feel the culprit cum swishing inside him.

Even the cranky Hydrean cracks a smile. “Bahamut, you take things too seriously.”

With everyone else seemingly on his side, Noctis assumes he can afford to be cocky. What’s he going do anyway? Kill him? “Yeah,” he steps closer to him, “you take things too seriously.”

Bahamut grunts. His sniffs and turns his face away. “Ugh, I can’t stand that wretched smell.”

Noctis shrugs. “I guess you could just send me away.”

Shiva smiles sweetly and folds her hands. “Yes, that is an option.”

“You better not have planned this woman, or so help me.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

Bahamut grumbles something under his breath about women and empathy before clearing his throat and speaking in a booming tone. “Noctis Lucis Caleum, Chosen King of Light, you have done as I have asked. You have killed the Accursed, sacrificed your life, and brought back the dawn. I am not one to go back on my word. The sun will continue to shine, but you will not stay here and corrupt my domain with this vile human substance. Therefore, you shall be allowed to return to Eos to die of natural causes before joining your ancestors.” He pauses, staring Noctis down. “And you better not return like this or you _will_ regret it.”

Noctis fights back his smile. “Thank you, Lord Bahamut. You honor me with your generosity.”

“Yeah, yeah, now get away from me.”

With a swipe of the Draconian’s hand, Noctis finds himself back in the throne room. The guys are there, faces turned down to the floor. Prompto’s sniffling loudly, Ignis is crouched on his knees, and Gladio’s gripping the throne’s arm rest so tightly his knuckles are white. Noctis shifts, but the sword is still impaling him and he groans in pain.

Their heads shoot to face him simultaneously, mouths falling open in shock.

“Noct?” Prompto asks.

Noctis lifts his hand in a wave. “Hey.”

Prompto barrels into him. Noctis cries out as the sword cuts at him, and Prompto backs up, apologies spewing from him.

“Don’t worry about it.” Noctis says dismissively, but part of him wonders if he could die again just from this.

“Let’s get this out,” Gladio says.

Together, he and Prompto tug at the sword’s hilt. As soon as it’s out, Ignis pours an elixir over the wound. That done, his arms find Noctis almost as roughly as Prompto’s had.

“How in the world?” he breathes in what sounds more like a prayer than a question.

Noctis chuckles even though it still hurts a little. “Funny story.” Gladio looks skeptical. “No, really. Bahamut thinks sex is gross.”

Gladio raises a brow. “Okay?”

“Well, according to him, I was stinking up the afterlife with my tummy full of cum.”

Prompto breaks into hysterics.

“You’re shitting me.”

Noctis shakes his head. “Nope. That’s seriously why he sent me back.”

“Oh, my gods!” Prompto shouts through his laughter. “Good thing I grabbed that butt plug, right?” He elbows Ignis who gives a small laugh of his own.

“Who could have seen this coming?”

“Not me,” Noctis says, “but I’m not about to complain.”

“Naturally.” Ignis still hasn’t let him go, and he can feel how he relaxes against him now that he’s stopped laughing.

“Glad to have you back, buddy.”

Noctis puts a hand on Ignis’ back and reaches for Prompto’s arm with the other. “Glad to be back.”


End file.
